


Retail Hell

by megolas



Category: Chuck - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2007
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-25
Updated: 2007-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-04 06:03:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megolas/pseuds/megolas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks so much to Quettaser, Bexless and Damson for putting up with my flailing and offering fresh eyeballs. <3</p>
    </blockquote>





	Retail Hell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladybug218](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladybug218/gifts).



> Thanks so much to Quettaser, Bexless and Damson for putting up with my flailing and offering fresh eyeballs. <3

 

 

"This is the latest in remote controls - the Logitech Harmony Remote 880 can control up to..." John trailed off as the customer stared at him with the usual glazed look. This was not what he'd ever imagined he'd end up doing after joining the National Security Agency. Serving his country, yes but he was pretty sure that bright green 'Buy More' t-shirts and customers from hell hadn't been mentioned.

"...you can use it as a replacement remote for all your electronic goods. No more hunting for different remotes down the side of the couch. Just pure control over technology in the palm of your hand."

"What if I lose this one though?"

John sighed. He had a good point. Dammit, out of the many customers in the Buy More, he hated the logical ones the most. Even more than the punk ass kids who thought they could get out of the store without paying for their age-inappropriate copies of Grand Theft Auto. At least with them, he could chase them down and pin their heads to the floor with his knee but there wasn't anything as satisfying in the face of blatant logic.

"In which case, sir, may I suggest you invest in our premium insurance service?"

Sometimes, thinking about his bonsai tree was the only thing that got him through the day.

+++

Sarah groaned quietly. The deep fat fryer was smoking alarmingly, the smell of hot dog was starting to become embedded in everything she owned, Alvin was being more officious than usual and recently, it seemed like every time she turned around in the Wienerlicious, it was to find a pack of slavering teenaged boys trying to look down the front of her damn uniform. None of this had been high on the list of perks of the job, certainly not when they'd actually turned out to be a 25% discount on Wienerlicious products, which was the last thing she wanted to go near after spending her shift fighting with the fryer. Occasionally, she fantasised about sticking someone's head - Alvin or the next drooling teenaged boy - into the deep fat fryer but she was better than that - she was CIA, she was elite, she was never going to eat another gourmet hot dog again.

"Sarah! The Wienerlicious isn't a place for daydreamers!"

Scratch that occasional on the deep fat fryer fantasy.

+++

This, this was more like it. This was what he'd been trained for. The thrill of the chase, feet pounding over the parking lot, leaping over bollards and ducking in between cars, adrenaline rushing and heart pounding. John swung a hard left and leapt, skidding across the hood of a suburban Subaru before landing on top of his target with a yell, hand automatically reaching for his gun before his rational mind kicked back in.

He could hear Chuck before he got around the front of the car, bright red and panting. The kid was improving but it'd be awhile yet before he could keep up.

John yanked the target up and surveyed the familiar face and the four DVD cases landing at his feet.

"Hey again, Dave." Chuck said, leaning up against the car and wheezing.

Damn kids just never learnt. No one outsmarted Major John Casey.

+++

"Sixteen boxes of gourmet hot dogs, fourteen boxes of hot dog buns, twenty-four packets of salt and pepper sachets, check."

And in the boxes next to those: twenty four rounds of ammo, six new flak vests and a box of ear pieces. Another successful weekly stock check at the Wienerlicious.

The door bell tinkled and Sarah shoved the clipboard on top of the boxes and turned around. "Hi, welcome to the...Larry and Jeff. What do you want?"

"Lester, it's Lester." He said, leaning against the counter. "Can't...a friend of your boyfriend come say hello?"

"Sure. Hi. Uh, Jeff? The Wienerlicious isn't licensed for alcohol."

Jeff looked up and grinned. "That's okay! I brought my own."

+++

John Casey is scared of no man. Small children however? Entirely new story. They're like _ninjas_. Of destruction. He's faced down smugglers, rogue agents, arms dealers, Chinese spies and Harry Chang without blinking an eyelid but give him a small child that's determined to trash a display unit and he's screwed.

"Ma'am? Can you please restrain your child? Ma'am?"

The kid made a beeline for the Wii console display unit and started slamming the remote against the table and screeching, the unit rocking back and forth with each thump.

"Ma'am! I will be forced to ask you to leave." What John would give to just pick the little brat up by the scruff of the neck but Big Mike was pretty firm on the no grabbing small children rule - the Buy More was "family friendly". Morgan on the other hand, was fair game.

Thankfully, his reflexes were honed so tight, you could bounce a quarter off them so they got him under the Wii as it started to fall, landing in his arms with a thump, cords trailing everywhere, the whole thing sound tracked to the applause of the rest of the Sales team.

Kidzilla and its mother were gone by the time he managed to get untangled and back up again.

Perhaps he should invest in another bonsai tree. Or maybe one of those Zen sand gardens.

+++

John let off another round as soon as the target wobbled into view, watching as the target shuddered, a neat grouping of bullet holes through the heart. The target in the next booth was sporting a neat bullet hole through the forehead. He wasn't surprised when he walked out of his booth to find Sarah coming out of the booth next door.

"Hard day at the Wienerlicious, Walker?"

She nodded. "Long day at the Buy More, Major Casey?"

John grunted.

"And just think - tomorrow we get to do it all over again."

He paused and scowled, turned and walked straight back into his booth. Two new targets rattled into view.

 


End file.
